


Not an Easy Day to Forget

by suzanami



Category: Magic Knight Rayearth
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2015-06-19
Packaged: 2018-04-05 01:37:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4160712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suzanami/pseuds/suzanami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone keeps stealing the casablanca lilies from Fuu's garden and she's determined to confront them about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not an Easy Day to Forget

**Author's Note:**

> for Fuu Week. I haven't written stuff in a long while so this is a bit dull and whatnot, but it was good exercise to get into the feel of writing again. honestly I'm sure it's all very obvious but I hope it's enjoyable anyway. I put it under Gen instead of F/M because it's really not shippy.

It's one thing to pick a flower or two from someone's yard. Flowers are meant to be enjoyed, after all, and there were plenty. (Well, there _should_ have been plenty. Fuu planted quite a lot this year.) It really is another thing entirely when someone is taking _handfuls_ of flowers. And it was her lilies, of course, her white lilies that she'd finally grown for the first time. She was fond of them, they were her favorite flower, and she'd always meant to grow some, so the theft left her a bit hurt as well as annoyed.

It didn't take Fuu long to notice her garden dwindling. The thief wasn't terribly restrained, seeming to happily take the flowers in large chunks from single areas. And he always seemed to come by before she got up, so she hadn't yet caught him in the act. She very much wanted to catch him in the act, though she wasn't sure quite what she would do. What if it was a very large, angry fellow? Or a tiny little grandmother? In any case, at this rate, there'd be none left in another week. Perhaps the thief wanted to steal as many as possible before they began to wilt?

Nine days had gone by since the first pilfering and Fuu was quite... _over_ this. She went to bed early on a hunch that the thief would return Sunday morning. So before the sun came up, she splashed her face with cool water, had a bite to eat, and waited at the kitchen window, still rubbing her eyes sleepily. There were a few early-morning joggers and dog-walkers, but none gave her yard the slightest glance. She sipped at her tea, unsure of how long she'd have to wait, or if the thief would be taking anything at all today. It could be she got herself up before dawn on a Sunday for no reason.

Then, about six, she saw him. He was strolling along, glancing around with an alertness that contrasted the early hour, hands jammed into the pockets of his zipped-up hooded shirt. He slowed in front of her yard, and Fuu hurried to the front door, peering out the small window there, a wry smile on her lips. She could see him through the tree in the yard, see him glance up at the kitchen window, then back over his shoulder, then to the house again. And then he leaned down over her flowers. Bingo.

She slipped out the door, keys in one hand, fully ready to chase him down the street if she had to do so to confront him. He heard the door click shut and froze, three flowers already in his hand. Eye contact was made, and she saw him swallow before standing up again.

“Good morning,” she offered as she reached the end of the walk, pausing a few feet from where he stood. She raised her brows, pressed one hand to her chest. “I see you're also enjoying the quiet of this early July morning. You must have arisen as early as I did. The casablancas look their best while they're still dewy, don't you agree?” Her gaze flickered to the white lilies in his hands, then back up to his face.

He was visibly uncomfortable. Mortified, even. He very much seemed as though he wished to dig a hole into the sidewalk. The silence lasted too long even for Fuu, so she spoke again. “The person you're taking those to must be very lovely,” she continued. “to merit theft.”

“She is.” His voice was low and a bit rough, still tired. A bit of dew dripped from one of the red stamens onto the already-warm sidewalk. The young man tipped his head, shaggy hair falling over his eye. “You kind of...” He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply through his nose. “I'm caught, then.”

“Why steal my flowers?” Fuu said, taking a step closer. “I can't fathom that your friend would appreciate being gifted with purloined lilies.”

He balked, blinking rapidly, before straightening his shoulders. He thrust the modest bouquet towards Fuu, who took them, holding them close to her chest. “I'll pay you for what I've taken.” After rummaging through his pockets for a moment, he offered her less than she had paid for just the bulbs of _all_ the flowers he'd taken, not even approaching what even the most thrifty florist would charge for just these three blooms. His face reddened.

Fuu looked at the crumpled money in his palm, the scent of the flowers filling the warm morning air between them, and tightened her fingers around the stems. “This will be the last bouquet you steal from my yard, you understand,” she said softly, her eyes rising to meet his again. His gaze was directed at the street. He startled when she pressed the stems into his hand, looking back at her. “But I'm very curious about the person who is so special as to receive so many of my lilies.” She let a small smile bloom on her face, friendly but cautious. “Would you tell me about her?”

He stared at her for a moment, the space between them taut with tension. Then he smiled, wide and a little crooked, and his face looked much better for it, even with the dark circles under his eyes and the rough scar on his cheek. He extended one hand towards her. “Start over? I'm Ferio.”

“Fuu.” She shook his hand before crossing her arms over her abdomen. “Who is the luckys recipient of the only casablanca lilies on this street, then?” She was still cross, but tried to relax her expression.

Ferio raised his brows. “I'm off to see her right now, actually. In the park at the end of the street, you know the one.”

“I would very much like to meet her, assuming it wouldn't be too terribly awkward.” She paused. He was evidently uncomfortable. “I wouldn't mention your thievery, of course. Either way, it was just a thought. Go ahead and meet up with her. I won't bother you if you don't bother my flowers any further.”

He was fidgeting, crushing the stems a little. “You can come along with me if you want to that bad,” he replied after a beat. He shrugged. “Like I said, it's just down the street by the park. She wouldn't mind.”

Fuu shrugged as well, suddenly embarrassed with herself for being so bold as to even ask such a thing. She had been attempting to stay in charge of the encounter, but this Ferio had wilted faster than she'd expected. She glanced up at the sun rising higher, already making the July morning hot and thick. It seemed like an all right venture. Heading with this fellow in broad daylight to a park full of those early-morning joggers certainly seemed safe enough. And she _had_ said that she wanted to meet this girlfriend so wonderful that she was worth stealing flowers for.

“So did you deliberately set out to steal someone's flowers or were you just serendipitously passing by when you saw mine?” she asked, glancing at him sidelong as they began down the sidewalk.

Ferio stumbled a little, almost unnoticeably. “I just saw them on my way, that's all,” he snipped, straightening his posture and sniffing loudly. “They're her favorite. I couldn't help myself.”

“I'd easily forgive one bouquet but you've taken much of my garden at this point.”

“Look, I really am sorry. Like, more than I can say. I'm asham– I'm just sorry, okay? This is the last time.”

“Because you got caught?”

He winced. “Well, yeah, that's part of it, not gonna lie. But also because I have to go back to my usual shift at work tomorrow. So I won't have a chance to come by, anyway.”

Fuu had seen how mortified he was to have so little cash on him – if it was an act for mercy, it was a very good one. “Have your hours been cut?”

“Nah.” He scratched the back of his neck and continued to look ahead of him. “Was on leave. Unpaid, natch. Couldn't afford to take the whole day off these past weeks, so I've been going in later.”

“I'm sorry. That's unfortunate.” She _was_ sorry, and curious to know more, but felt she had pried quite enough – even if he _was_ a flower thief.

The park was only a few short blocks from her residence – something she loved about the area. She'd never been here quite this early in the morning, never seen the particular slant of sunlight through the trees and over the grass and soccer field. Ferio cut through instead of following the path, his gaze still fixed straight ahead and his cheeks pink. It was definitely starting to get hot, but not hot enough to warrant a flush.

Fuu wondered where he was meeting his girlfriend. They'd passed the major social areas and she tightened her hand around her keys – just in case. But her curiosity was like a tiny rush of adrenaline thrumming under her skin, so she continued walking next to him as he weaved down a less-traveled path.

“I didn't know this bridge was here,” she commented. It was small, wooden, in bad need of painting.

“People don't use it much. Scared of it.”

“Scared?”

“You know,” he waved his hand. “Ghosts and hauntings and all that.”

“Superstitious nonsense,” she added. “Who still believes in ghosts, anyway?”

“Well, define 'ghost',” he replied, hopping over a fallen sapling.

“Why, do you?”

“Yeah, more or less. I just don't think they're hanging around this shitty old bridge. Through here. Sorry, I don't have a car right now so I kinda have to take this scenic route.”

The line of trees opened up into a field, and Fuu's breath caught. She'd never seen it from this angle before, but she definitely recognized the area. “You're not meeting a girlfriend for a date, I suppose, then?” she said softly.

Ferio weaved through the back entrance to the cemetery. He looked back at her, surprised. “Did you really think I was stealing flowers for a date? I thought you were just being facetious.”

Now it was Fuu's turn to be embarrassed. It hadn't even begun to occur to her that he was taking flowers for a grave. She followed him through the path that weaved between headstones until he stopped abruptly. She almost bumped into him. She glanced around; they weren't standing at a headstone. Why had he..?

She followed his gaze. A tall man with long dark hair and an even darker expression looked back at them. He was standing at a very elaborate headstone, hands jammed into his jean pockets and a scowl on his face. Then he turned and sauntered towards the front gate.

“My sister's husband,” Ferio finally said as the man passed behind a mausoleum. “I haven't seen him out here before. I think he usually comes in the evenings.”

“Your sister?” Fuu bit her lower lip. “My deepest sympathies.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” He cleared his throat and continued towards the headstone. “He's probably out here right now because this is the time of day she died, one month ago.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Mid-June.” She saw him blinking his eyes quickly as he slowed to a stop.

“Emeraude,” Fuu read off the stone, softly, under her breath. “That's very beautiful.”

Ferio laughed weakly, and it sounded more like a sad bark than laughter. “She _was_. Prettiest person I've ever known. Spitting image of our grandmother, too.” He took a shaky breath. There were asiatic lilies in various pale shades on top of the headstone and piled around the base of it. Apparently the late Emeraude's favorite flower was no secret. “Everyone else leaves her lilies, see? The biggest are from her husband. They're not that expensive, I mean, don't get me wrong. I just – she didn't have life insurance, so we all had to pool together what we had. I don't have much to begin with.” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat again, setting the three casablanca lilies on top of the stone.

“How did–” Fuu began, but when she saw his expression twist and his eyelids fall shut, she trailed off. Best not to ask. The strong smell of lilies was thick in the hot air. “I apologize for being rude.”

Another weak sort of laugh. “Don't. Still no excuse for stealing and vandalizing. I thought I could get away with it, but you're sneakier than I am.” He waved his hand, and it was shaking. “Anyway, now you know.” He glanced at her. He wasn't crying, but his eyes were a little red, were wet. “I really will pay you back for the flowers I stole.”

Fuu shook her head. “Don't concern yourself with that. They would have only bloomed another week at the most.” The air was starting to get humid, her curls sticking to the nape of her neck. “There are things that are more important. I can plant more for next year.”

“Right.” He was staring at her with a sad sort of glowering expression.

“What is it?”

“Sorry.” He lowered his eyes back to the grave. “You just look like her, that's all. It's weird.”

Fuu felt her face redden. That was no fault of hers, of course, but she felt a bit bad just the same when he looked at her that way. She took a breath. “Do you work today?”

He turned towards her. “No.”

She forced a smile, tried to make it as genuine as possible. “It occurs to me that there is a way for you to repay me for the stolen flowers.”

Sighing, Ferio ran his hand through his hair. “Knew I couldn't get off so easily. What's that gonna be?”

Fuu brushed the hair from her face. “Would you be so kind as to accompany me to get some flowers to replace them? I think purchasing some blooming lilies and setting them in the garden will help brighten it a bit until they grow back next year. I would like another pair of eyes to pick the best ones.”

He tousled his hair again, grumbling and averting his eyes. “I don't know anything about picking the best flowers or nothing.”

“On the contrary,” Fuu smiled. “You picked my nicest ones first. You have a good eye.”

Ferio dug his heel into the ground and jammed his hands into his pockets. “I mean, if you insist. It's the least I can do. Just don't be expecting me to be much help.”

Fuu folded her hands in front of her. “Knock on my door when you head back. I'll leave you alone now.” She dipped her head. “And again, my condolences on your loss.” The words felt hollow, tasteless and insincere on her tongue, but they were the correct words one was supposed to say. What else does one say, anyway? She turned to head back the way they came, suddenly feeling that she had overstayed her welcome in this place.

“Hey. Fuu.”

She glanced back at Ferio. “Yes?”

He was grinning again. Not quite a happy smile, but there was less pain and a bit more ease on his face. “Hey, thanks.”

She turned to fully face back at him. Her keys were hot in her palm; she fidgeted with them. She wondered if she really did look like his late sister, and if she could think of a way to ask to see a photo without coming across as morbid. She was very curious. “You're quite welcome,” she managed awkwardly, turning to walk briskly and collect her thoughts.


End file.
